A Matter Of Choice
by Eloise05
Summary: In the kingdom of Madagascar, Julien, heir to the throne, and the royal family ask for help when their safety is threatened with a coup d'etat. Help comes in the form of team PENGUIN. But what happens when politics, matters of succession and violence get mixed up with matters of the heart? Does fate rule a man's life or are you free to make your own choices ? Some OOCJulien
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.: Obviously, Madagascar is not a kingdom anymore, but let's make this an AU where it still is. I know lemur groups are female-dominated, but for the purposes of this story I wrote the Madagascan society as ruled by a king. **

After the hurried take off, the military cargo plane had entered a steady flight, now somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. It seemed like it was going to be an uneventful journey all the way to Madagascar. The four Special Forces operatives that comprised the team codenamed "PENGUIN" had been briefed earlier that week regarding their newest assignment. Madagascar, the island nation off the coast of Africa, had remained, as many other African lands, a monarchy. In a desperate effort to keep hold of his crown and, as he claimed to the American powers that be, avoid endangering the balance of peace worldwide, the current king, Julien the XIIth had asked for help. From the information they were provided, a local group of insurgents and terrorists were threatening with a coup d'etat. The decision was made for the four of them to be sent in as the avant-garde of the military back up (from a big world power, even) the king had asked for. They would assess the situation, send back intel and act as the royal family's guard in the meantime. This lack of actual action and status of glorified bodyguards had not gone over well with some of them, especially the team leader, Skipper. But, protest as he might, he was now on the cargo plane steadily making it's way towards Madagascar.

Skipper came back from the plane's cockpit, where he had been discussing the itinerary and schedule of the journey with the two pilots. He slumped down into a seat next to Private, the team's youngest member. Taking a better look at his young comrade, he saw that he was engrossed in a novel. Skipper leaned forward trying to see the title of the book on the cover or the spine, but couldn't catch a good glimpse.

'Whatcha reading, Private?' Startled, the young man hugged his book to his chest.

'Umm… Nothing, sir.' Skipper raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

'I was just making conversation, but now you piqued my interest.' And with that he snatched the book from Private's hands. He looked over the cover, the title and the author's name. Then, because he needed more reassurance, he flipped a few pages.

'Is this…a romance novel?' Private nodded reluctantly. 'Why? Just why? How can you stand this mushy, gooey stuff? People who write romance have nothing better to do. And people who read it…' he was interrupted by Private taking back his book, a scowl on his face.

'I like feelings. Nothing wrong with them. And I like love, okay? And the idea of being in love. Every good story, no matter what kind, needs a little dash of romance. Love changes people, it makes them do things they wouldn't dream of normally. Imagine how lackluster our history and culture would be if we didn't have all those famous lovers that make it so much richer and more interesting: Tristan and Isolde, Romeo and Juliet, Abelard and Eloise, Queen Victoria and Albert. Paris stole Helena out of love, Orpheus traveled to Hell out of love. Lancelot and Guinevere and Paolo and Francesca disregarded the norms of society for their love.'

Skipper silently watched as Private became more and more impassioned about what he personally felt was a silly and unnecessary subject. The young man's passion was to be admired, if he were to be honest. He also wasn't aware that Private's cultural knowledge extended this much. The moment was shattered by Kowalski, who piped up from behind them.

'Pierre and Marie Curie loved each other and,,, science!'

'Right…' Private and Skipper eyed him wearily. Rico was sitting beside Kowalski, but luckily for him he was oblivious to their conversation. He couldn't tell you what was going on around him or outside the window he was leaning his head against. With earphones in his ears and his eyes closed, he had decided to spend as much of the journey he possibly could in his own world.

'Thanks for that Kowalski, I didn't know you were listening.' Said Private, polite as ever. Turning to Skipper, he added, curiosity mixing with innocence in his eyes and a slight hint of fear that he might be crossing some kind of line. 'Haven't you ever been in love Skipper?' The commander gave a laugh, not exactly the reaction Private expected from him.

'You know very well I tried, Private. I didn't exactly hide my tangles with the ladies back home.'

'Yes, sir. But was it butterflies in the stomach, weak knees love?' Skipper sent a withering look his way. He almost had enough of this nonsense. Listen to the lad, "butterflies in the stomach".

'Private, when you're in my position you can't afford that. Now, I don't want to crack your rose tinted glasses, but love's a liability. Your enemies can get to you so much easier through your loved ones. Also, a partner can stand idly by so many times, while you're whisked away on dangerous missions with very low chances of survival. In any case, I prefer my soldier's life. I have my freedom…' he faltered.

Private had been watching him while he gave his answer. The young man observed Skipper's face, earnest and open as always, but at the end it closed off just for a brief second like a cloud had past over it for a moment.

'Anyway… I enjoy being in the Special Forces and serving my country and if that means sacrificing aspects of my personal life, so be it. I don't want to sound cynical or jaded or maybe I am, but this right here can give me more satisfaction than any romantic relationship. Adventure, the potential for glory, a chance to show your bravery.' He sighed wistfully. 'What more can you ask?'

'Oh, I don't know. Access to a high-tech laboratory facility or at least some scientific equipment? Is that too much, you think?' said Kowalski, with a sad, little voice. 'I'm gonna be sans science for months. I'm gonna go mad, surely.'

'Going to? That implies a future occurrence.' Said Skipper.

'Oh. Haha!'

They sat in silence for a while, Rico still in his music filled little world. Private had abandoned his novel to staring out the window. Disappointingly, there was nothing much out there other than water. At one point their stomachs informed them it was meal time. Rico joined them after a bit too powerful nudge from Kowalski.

'So, this Madagascar… is it really that bad?' asked Private after he swallowed his bite of sandwich.

'Well, I don't think it's nearly as bad as it gets when there are insurgents and terrorists involved.' Said Kowalski, in his lecturing tone. 'At the moment, the population is split into two groups, one supporting the king, Julien the XIIth, and the other amassing behind the leader of the insurgent opposition, Clemson. There is unrest on the streets, but there haven't been downright riots yet. The massive threat is to the royal family, that is the exact reason they have asked for our help.'

'Surely, if there is a place in this world in need of some love magic, it's that.' Said Private with a half smile, as if still deciding if he was serious or not. Skipper and Kowalski merely rolled their eyes, but Rico look at him confused, having missed the first part of the conversation.

'Honestly Private, I don't know if your persevering naïve romanticism is to be admired or not.' Said Skipper, crossing his arms over his chest. Private pushed his bottom lip out in a slight pout, but continued.

'Well, I just think it's awful, the hand these people and their country have been dealt by fate right now. And since no one can control their fate…' but he was unable to finish his thought.

'Fate?! Private! There is no such thing as fate!' exclaimed Skipper a bit outraged at the notions that were floating in his inferior officer's head. 'People make and undo their own lives through their own stupid mistakes.' Private gave a barely noticeable flinch at the harsh words, but his commander ignored the gesture and continued. 'And the same happens to countries. They get screwed over by their leaders. What makes you think this king isn't some god awful tyrant? You haven't even met him yet.'

'I…I…'

'Don't worry about it Private.' Said Skipper, patting the private's head, a softer look in his eyes, now. 'There's much you need to learn still and you still have the time.' Private gave him a beaming smile. If this was a competition, and Kowalski and Rico would never say that it was, Private would always win "commander's pet". Of course, the image of Skipper petting Kowalski or Rico's head like that would a) look ridiculous and b) end with some dangerous repercussions for their leader and his hand.

They eventually ended up falling asleep, although the military plane didn't have any of the comforts offered on a commercial airline, like pillows or nice little blankets to spread over themselves. They were startled several hours later when the pilot's voice came crackling over the intercom announcing they had arrived to their destination and should be preparing for landing. They scrambled to put their seatbelts on before they hit the runway.

After the landing maneuvers were over and the airstair lowered, the four commandos exited the plane intent to recover their luggage and finally meat their "employer". Once outside, Private felt somewhat confused. They were standing on a concrete slab wide and long enough for aircrafts to land on it. It was plain to see it was specifically made for that purpose. Everything else around them, on the other hand, was the lush verdure of a tropical forest.

'What is happening? I thought we were going to the capital.' Said Private, voicing his confusion.

'Oh, the king feared an attempt on his life. So he retreated to one of his other estates, here in the south of the country. That's where we're headed now.' Kowalski answered him.

They retrieved their luggage and hopped into a van sent by the royal household to escort them. Apparently they were informed the four Americans had arrived, though none of the PENGUINS could tell you how, not even Kowalski. Behind them the plane was already flying back home.

**A.N.: If you're wondering where Julien is, don't worry. He'll make his grand entrance in the next chapter. Since he is a major character (if not the main one), you will be seeing a lot of him. **


	2. Chapter 2

The car finally passed through a large, magnificent gate after the driver finished with the safety procedures. By what they could see through the tinted windows, the king had heavily armed men at his disposal positioned throughout the yard. By the looks of them they were more for intimidation purposes than for anything else, though it would have been unfair to underestimate a man with a gun. The car pulled over in front of the stately mansion and the four men got out of the car. Someone immediately came to escort Skipper and his team to where the king was expecting them.

The mansion looked amazing seen from in front. What a viewer coming through the main gate wouldn't see was that it also extended into two wings in the back, which, at their extremities, touched on the surrounding forest.

It was very late in the evening, but the four PENGUINS were still on USA time and jet lag was sending the first hints of its presence. No matter how long they had been doing this job they still got jet lagged. It was a piece of cake now compared to when they started out. Skipper and Kowalski really wanted to get the diplomatic end of the business over and done with so they could get some shut eye. Private and Rico only thought about sleep.

The man accompanying them stopped before two grand doors and turned to them.

'You are about to be in the presence of our great king Julien the XIIth! Have any of you Americans ever been in the presence of royalty? Do you know the proper royal etiquette?'

Skipper, Kowalski and Rico looked at him dumbfounded and somewhat angry that he was stealing some more of their time. Private looked uncertain. Facts about Queen Elizabeth II were tumbling through his head.

'Right!' the man said, gauging from their faces that they were lost. 'You are not to speak first. You will engage in conversation only when the king addresses you. You are not allowed to touch any of the members of the royal family unless they extend the first gesture.'

'That's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard!' exclaimed Skipper.

'Yeah! How are we supposed to do our jobs? What if one of them is attacked. How should we protect them if we can't touch them?' asked Kowalski.

'That is not my problem, friend.' Said the man, with an extra dose of apathy. 'One last thing. When you're addressing the king, call him "Your Majesty". If you really want to call him by his name, he prefers the full title.'

'What, King Julien the XIIth?' asked Skipper surprised.

'Yes'

'Freak.' Muttered Rico under his breath. The man gave him a warning look, then turned around and pushed the two massive doors aside. They opened on the mansion's ball room turned in the king's makeshift throne room. In the day the huge windows lining one half of the room would let the natural light in, but now chandeliers shone all the people gathered. Their guide gestured for them to make their way towards the king, indicating that he would not be joining them any further. Skipper and his team stepped through the doors as determined as ever. No pompous royals were gonna impress him.

They were not even midway across the hall when they were stopped by a couple of young men stepping in their way. By what Skipper could tell by their clothes and lack of weapons they were not guards, nor any kind of servants.

'Kowalski, analysis!' he muttered to his second in command.

'I really don't like saying this Skipper, but I don't know. By their clothes, they look like they are part of the high society. But I don't know why they would stop us. All we did was walk, like normal people. Unless, they don't walk like normal people here…' he said as if he had made a great discovery.

'OK, I need you to shut up now!'

The two young men eyed them before one of them cleared his throat to say:

'Prepare to feast your eyes on the magnificent presence of the crown Prince, Julien!'

The lights from the chandeliers dimmed bit by bit before a veritable barrage of sound and a light show began. Beautiful young women in shimmering and jeweled outfits were dancing their way to the center of the room and in their midst, meandering about, a young man. Was that supposed to be the magnificent Prince Julien? though Skipper. We're certainly not in Kansas anymore. The group started an elaborate dance number on a strange but compelling instrumental rendition of "Welcome to the Jungle" from Guns N' Roses. The whole show was unfolding right in front of the four man team, since they never got a chance to move out of the way. The music was now staccato now melodious, it was quiet then turned back to fierce and passionate and the dancers followed suit. Skipper pried his eyes away from the dancing forms and raised them towards the dais where the throne sat. A few people were gathered around the sitting figures of the king and queen: two young women, one with a young boy. Farther behind the throne, there was a man, somewhat shorter and with a stout built. He had an inconspicuous air about him, as if being able to not attract attention when he wanted to. Taking a better look at the king, it was clear to see that this interruption had not been his plan. He was very displeased. Skipper also noted that he looked unwell for a man of his years, but it could just have been the distance or the changing lights playing tricks on his eyes. Nevertheless he filed the information away.

The dance quickly escalated into an extravagant showstopper complete with lights, artificial fog and a human pyramid and when it came to its inevitable end, the Prince came to a stop just a few inches away from Skipper's face, his chest heaving from the exertion and a wide grin on his face. After he properly caught his breath he asked the four men in front of him:

'So, how did you like my grand entrance?' the four eyed one another trying to assess what to say without screwing this for themselves from the very beginning. It was obvious they were coming up short until Private piped up.

'Smashing!' in his charming British accent. Julien turned his beaming smile on the young agent and it seemed like he was measuring him from head to toe for a couple of seconds. Around them the hall was returning to its original state, the lights were coming back on and the lady dancers were dispersing in the crowd of onlookers.

'O-ho! I like this cutesy guy! I did do the smashing!' the PENGUINS relaxed visibly. It was not that Skipper or his men put any importance on the status of royalty, especially not that of Madagascar, but this was a mission and if Skipper lived by anything it was never fail a mission. So, if he had to cozy up to some royals for a month or two he would grin and bear it as best his temperament could take it and so would his men.

'I'll take you to my father now! Come!' the Prince declared as if only by his will the team would have ever seen the king. They crossed the hall and stopped in front of the dais. Skipper could feel all the eyes in the room boring through the back of his skull. Just as soon as Julien took his place by his family, the young boy sprang from the woman's side, presumably his mother, and enveloped Julien's legs in a tight hug.

'Ugh! Mort, not the feets!' the Prince exclaimed with a suffering expression on his face. He finally managed to extract himself from the vice-like grip of the boy and pushed him back towards his mother. .

'Thank you Julien for that… charming artistic interlude earlier.' Said the king in a restrained voice so that it wouldn't carry over the room, without looking at his son, his eyes trained on the new arrivals.

'Oh, no, no it was my pleasure!'

'Believe me, son, I know.' added the king with a sigh. 'So, you are the Americans. Are some of you upstairs unpacking, lost on the way? What is going on here?' he asked the Special Forces team in front of him. He scrutinized each and everyone of them with a cold stare, although his eyes had a warm chocolate colour.

'We are the avant-garde… Your Majesty.' replied Skipper, content that this situation was creating some discomfort for someone else apart from himself.

'What, all 400 of you?' Skipper cocked a quizzical brow at the number he had just heard.

'No, all four of us. Drink us in!' the commando leader told the king flashing his most charming smile. It might not have gone the best way. A deathly hush had fallen over the entire room, as if everybody was straining to hear the conversation they were having. Even the king felt the shift in atmosphere. He stood up slowly and directed his attention towards the courtiers gathered there.

'Everybody out!' he ordered. Skipper and his team watched behind them as they all scrambled to leave as fast as they could through the nearest exit. The only ones left were the royal couple, the Prince, the two ladies with the young boy and the man standing farther behind the throne. Pleased, the king sat back down, his gaze returning to Skipper.

'Now… I was expecting some 400 of you. At least 40 if they were sending a joke…'

'Sir, I assure you it is no joke. If you'd have been screwed over we wouldn't be here at all.' Said Skipper, anger clearly showing in his voice. 'My team is a specialized military task force codename PENGUIN. Our superiors considered us capable to keep the situation under control and to keep your family out of risk until the extended support arrives. Which will be shortly.'

'Hmm…' Kowalski cleared his voice as way of inserting himself into the conversation. 'Also, at some point it would be useful to know who we will have to protect specifically… Your Majesty… if you don't mind…Sir.' The king looked for a second as if he'd forgotten about that part.

'Well, you've already met my son, Julien.' he inclined his head towards his son, who was casually leaning against the throne.

'Hello, PENGUINS!' said the Prince, laughing as to an inner joke to which only he was in on. The four team members looked at each other a bit unnerved.

'This, of course, is my Queen and wife, Malala. This' he said gesturing to one of the women standing on the other side of the dais 'is my daughter, Rina and her son Mort. And this lovely woman is my son's fiancée, princess Lea.' The four men courteously saluted the three women with a bow of their heads. 'Now, I'll leave the decision of how you will do the protecting to you. You are the professionals, after all. Although I can't see how you'll manage between the four of you.' The disdain was obvious in his voice although he was making a minuscule attempt at concealing it.

'Oh, don't worry about us… Your Majesty. Just keep worrying about your life.' Said Skipper. He felt Private tugging at his hand and knew he might have stepped a bit out of line. 'I'll have Kowalski give you a report on our decision regarding your protection in the morning.'

'Very well, you may retire. I'll have someone show you to your rooms.' He finally said waving a hand disdainfully.

The walk to their rooms led them through long and winding corridors. The thing on both Skipper and Kowalski's mind was that that talk was anything but diplomatic. None of them could understand why the man was being so hostile when they were there to help him. Skipper stopped them from going into their own rooms for a brief meeting. If the man weren't his superior, Rico would have bit his head off. On the other hand, it was visible to the naked eye to see how the sleepier Private got the softer around the edges he became. Once inside Skipper's room, Private fell face first on the bed. Skipper shook his head and went to check on his luggage first before he started the meeting. Seeing as there was time to spare, Rico and Kowalski sat down themselves, one at the foot of the bed and the other on a chair, respectively.

'OK, men! I just wanted to inform you who will handle which royal family member.' Said Skipper rubbing his hands.

'You've already decided that?' asked Kowalski.

'Yes. And since you asked, you will take care of the king's daughter, princess what's her name and her son.' Kowalski just nodded his head. 'Rico, you'll be in charge of the king and queen.'

'Wha'?' he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps it was just the sleep depravation. Skipper couldn't mean it seriously to leave the most important people to him.

'What what? You're ruthless, buddy. I know nothing could pass by you. Someone smack Private.'

'I'm awake, I'm awake. No one smack me, please!' pleaded Private lifting his head with just one eye open.

'Private, you will protect the Prince's fiancée.'

'OK, I can work with that.'

'That leaves you with the Prince, Skipper.'

'Clever observation Kowalski. Anything else obvious you wanna state while you're at it? Yeah didn't think so! Tomorrow I want that report for "his Majesty" and a schedule for our guard and other duties. Ok, now get out of my bed Private. Let me hit the hay!'

Sleep came quickly that night for the four PENGUINS, but their dreams could not have prepared them for what their lives would become in Madagascar.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: A short one this time. Sorry, but I hope you like it. **

Clemson walked with panache and a self-confident smile in the room where his closest and most trusted associates and henchmen waited for him. He enjoyed being late on purpose, he liked to play with people's patience. It was the monthly meeting, odd for a group dubbed and viewed by outsiders as a terrorist cell. But Clemson was a logical man who believed that he could get his goals through structure and planning, not mindless violence. A fact he found hard to get through to his new "friends", the Fossa, the most violent group in Madagascar. He could hardly stand them, but as they say call the bear uncle till you are safe across the bridge. They had helped him to virtually take over the capital since the king had fled and for that he could swallow his bile towards them (with difficulty, but he could do it).

He seated himself at the head of the rectangular meeting table. When he asked them if they had anything noteworthy to report the silence alone spoke volumes in the room. A menacing flicker sparked in his unusual turquoise eyes.

'Fine. Nothing wrong with that. Why would there be?' he gave a sigh. 'I'll tell you what I found out, how's that, hmm?' he asked, dissatisfaction clear in his prattling voice. He pushed his chair back as he stood up and leaned forward on his arms. 'I am sad to give you this news.' But his countenance was presenting a sharp, sardonic smile. 'Our most beloved ruler is deathly ill. Quite literally on his death bed as we speak. I'm sure this grieves you as much as it does me.'

The faces in the room returned his smile and satisfaction. One man at the center of the table spoke up.

'Does this change our plans in any way, boss?' Clemson straightened up, a hand at his chin in a false moment of pondering. As previously stated Clemson loved plans and always coming prepared, he also loved playing with people's perceptions of him.

'Let's cut the pretenses, okay? We all agree that that old, pompous windbag is a tyrant. We also agree that this country would benefit from a generous, kind, competent ruler. Someone like myself, maybe, right? We already established that. That's why we're trying to topple him from his high-seat. He's making our job easier by dying and not making me do it for him. But there's another thing you worthless wastes of space couldn't find out for yourself.' His words were almost snarling now as he was looking around the meeting room, his arms crossed across his chest.

The men in the room were all avoiding his gaze. Clemson could sweet talk you and your mama into doing anything for him, but they knew there was a very dark part of that personality and it was not pretty when it came out.

'Let me ask you something, gentlemen. What happens when a king dies? And what will happen when our king dies?' Lump, the least endowed in the upstairs department of the whole meeting, raised his hand, bless his heart. With a sigh, Clemson answerd.

'Yes, Lump?'

'He goes to heaven?' after a beat.

'Yes, Lump. Of course he goes to heaven. If he's been a good boy. Have you been a good boy, Lump? I have half a mind to send you in an impromptu visit right now.' He finished in an angered whisper. 'No, you nitwits!' he snapped, banging his hands against the table. 'When the king dies the rule passes to his heir. That's logical. It's logical, right? I think I'm right. And who's his heir? That idler, Julien.'

'Yes, sir, but even so, the crown passes by law to the first born son. And as far as we know, Prince Julien has no wish to abdicate, even if he is only interested in partying and has no idea about matters of state.'

'Aha! See, here is where all of your appalling qualities as informants come into play. The king has just passed a document binding his son into a contract. He has to marry the woman his father chose or he won't inherit the crown. Apparently she is a foreign princess. Why would anyone want to get in leagues with that idiot? What wouldn't people do for power, am I right?' He waited for the effect of his revelation to take place, but after a time it seemed like no one in the room got the point. 'Now that the king is dying, all we have to do is wait for him to die, then attack before this wedding takes place and the crown is mine.' He could feel an evil laugh bubbling in his chest. He cleared his throat.

The man to his immediate left asked him:

'Sir, what about the public opinion? They are already calling us terrorists. How about when we'll eliminate a king who wasn't a tyrant, but completely inefficient and most certainly harmless.'

'Well, that's why I need you people. I need a team to start pronto work on ruining Julien's rep in any and all ways possible. Any questions?' Blank stares were all that he got in return. It was difficult sometimes having this vision of being king. Well, some would call it obsession, but what did they know? It made him have to deal with people like these very often, like he was the only evolved life form for miles.

'Well then, meeting adjourned.' He waited for all of them to exit the room and finally let out that evil laugh. He will take Madagascar to new heights under his rule, he just knew it.


	4. Chapter 4

It had taken some time, but things had finally settled into a routine for the PENGUINS. And the royal family and household staff were used to them now. One single person was trying his hardest to evade the watchful eye of his guardian and get back to his old, escapist ways and that was Prince Julien. Skipper was thankful now that he gave the guard assignments the way he did. He didn't believe any of his men could resist Julien's systematic attempts at shucking his personal protection. Especially not Rico. They would have been one royal down very quickly, no outside intervention needed.

There was one more thing they needed to take care of, but had not managed to find a suitable way how yet. They needed intel on the opposite side, but seeing as they were just four and already strained to their limits with the protection of the king and his family they had no way of sparing one of them to infiltrate the opposite side and bring back information. Skipper had proposed that they either wait for the reinforcement troops or trust someone in the household staff to be sent in. They were already covertly screening everyone around them.

The day had started normally enough. Skipper took his position by the Prince's door. Julien didn't go down to breakfast that morning, a tray that in its majority was made up of fruits was brought up to him instead. Skipper had learned from his observation that the Prince preferred to eat fruit in any form to any other food. After a few hours boredom was already starting to settle in over Skipper and he was estimating that Julien's first escape attempt of the day was due. He was rewarded when the door behind him swung open and Julien strode past him. He didn't figure the man was this idiotic.

'Hey! Wait, wait, wait! Where do you think you're going… Your Majesty?' he still had problems with the correct way of addressing him. "Majesty " and 'Highness" stuck in his throat.

'I am going for a walk!' he had pronounced the "I" in such a way as if it excluded any possibility of the existence of any other person in that sentence and the action it implied ever.

'You know you can't go anywhere without me, Julien.' retorted the other man. 'And anyway, where is this walk you want to take?'

'The forest.' When he got a funny look from the commando, he elaborated. 'The thingy with big, greeny leaves all around this house? Not even your unbig littleish brain could have missed that.' Skipper gritted his teeth.

'Well, I'm coming with you. Lead the way.'

'Fine!' The fact that yet another one of his attempts of getting out from under the ever present eye of this outsider had been thwarted left a bitter taste in his mouth. It wasn't that the man was terrible (maybe a bit annoying at times when he got that military stick way too up his…). He was even tolerable when he left his guard down. Skipper would never admit that he left his guard down in front of Julien and truth be told he never did. But Skipper was not the only one who liked a bit of spying. It's funny what people do when they think they're not being watched. All those days and nights posted in front of Julien's door, the Prince watched and saw a smile, a yawn, a tired face, a muttered word to no one. Little things that made this man, that wanted to be so hardened, more endearing.

The day was pleasant, not too stifling. Skipper had expected the extreme warmth of the tropical countries, but he soon found out that they had arrived in the dry season and the coldest part of the year. Not that it was any different from a nice summer's day in New York. The forest was as green and vibrant up close as it appeared from a distance. Even more so. And as Julien led him farther in through the large foliage he could smell, see, hear many new things. It set his sharp senses on edge. Julien didn't seem to stop. Perhaps he didn't plan to, just walk and return to the mansion/palace. Suddenly a movement drew Skipper out of his musings and in seconds he had his submachine gun aimed in the offending direction. Before he could do anything he heard Julien's voice in a stage whisper.

'Are you a nutso?!' the man rushed to him in a few, quick strides, managed easily with his long legs, and lowered Skipper's gun with a hand. 'That's just a Lemur. A Ringtail Lemur as you call them. We call them _maki_ or _hira_.' He explained to Skipper, sounding the two foreign words for his benefit. 'My people, that is my clan thinks that the spirits of our ancestors are Ringtails.' He seemed very proud of himself as he smiled down at the gun wielding man beside him.

'Well, your ancestor is lucky. I would have blown it to bits.' The little lemur, frightened by Skipper's voice, scurried away.

'Aww, you scared it!' complained Julien smacking Skipper's arm lightly with the back of his hand. He, then, headed for the same spot the Ringtail vacated moments ago and sat himself down on the collapsed tree trunk. He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and watched Skipper with his unusual amber eyes. Skipper was really itching to break the awkwardness with something, anything. Julien beat him to it, instead.

'Why don't you seat down, too, trigger happy PENGUIN?' the Prince said patting the tree trunk beside himself as if it were a really comfy couch.

'I have to stay on guard remember?' said Skipper raising his gun as an indication. Julien just nodded lowering his eyes to the forest's leaf floor for a second 'So, how's your father doing?' he knew already. Everybody knew that the man was feeling bad going on worse. But it was right at the front of his mind and he was in a pinch for small talk.

'You really wanna talk about that?'

'Um…'

'What?' asked Julien with a frown. Skipper hesitated and no words came out. 'You think your life comes first because you come from America and we're from Madagascar?'

'Hey now… your Majesty! Don't go putting words in my mouth! I'm not here to feed your superiority or inferiority complex. So are you going to tell me about your father or are we going to stay here in perfect silence until the whim takes you to go back?'

'You don't care and won't understand anyway, with your PENGUIN brain.' Huffed Julien, crossing his arms. All the changes heaped upon him in such a relatively short period of time were thoroughly confusing him and the only way he knew to express it was through his bratiness and arrogance. He did want to talk about it, but the man standing in front of him like a sentinel was just a stranger.

'You're right. I don't care. Your personal problems are not my concern.' Julien lifted his big, amber eyes to Skipper and it seemed like there was hurt hidden somewhere in there. 'But I've been thrust into this. This is my mission and if this will help me accomplish it successfully then lay it on me.'

'Anything for the mission, huh?' asked Julien with half a smile, giving the impression that he didn't put much stock on the military man's code of conduit. He was almost certain that it was reciprocal. He then heaved a great sigh, as if preparing for some great labour. 'I'm scared, PENGUIN…' Well, that was something Skipper expected and yet didn't expect. People were usually scared when he and his team were around, otherwise they wouldn't have needed them around in the first place. But the way Julien had said it was different. Not at all panicky and scared for his life. He tried to give the Prince the standard victim talk down (at which he sucked and so it was Private's job).

'Um…Death is a difficult thing for everyone, your Majesty.' Julien just gave him a confused look until the penny dropped.

'Hmm… Oh! Not about that!' he said waving a hand in the air. 'I lived in this country since I was born. I can't even remember that's how long I've lived here. And I love it, no matter what _dada_ says.' Skipper did not have a clear idea of what he was talking about, but he could guess. He had heard a few talks between Julien and his father and it seemed that the older man really considered his son unfit for anything else but partying. 'But now a crazy, insane, maniac, nutso wants to be king.'

'Well, don't worry, that's why we're here.' Skipper reassured him, with his most confident smile.

'It's not just that. My father's death…' Skipper knew this was coming. 'is such a pain in the back of my side!' he hadn't seen that coming though. 'Everyday I wait for him to pass to the spirits is like…Have you ever seen an animal waiting to be cut and eaten or sacrificed to the spirits? Like that. Waiting for the big, bad thing to come down on me.' Skipper was a bit disturbed right about now. What was in this guy's mind? 'Because after he is with the ancestors, I will be between a rock and a hard place!'

'What are you talking about?!'

'For a guy whose job is to be watching very carefully, I don't think you missed this. You saw that pretty lady that is not my sister?'

'Yeah, yeah… Private's looking after her.'

'Whatever.' Dismissed Julien. He held up his hands like the pans of a scale looking from one to the other as he spoke. 'If I don't marry her I can't be king. If I won't become king after my father dies the dangerous nutso wins. For sure.'

'Then marry her. What's stopping you? She's a looker I have to tell you.'

'I don't really…like her.'

'You mean like her or _like_ her like her?' asked Skipper, a bit intrigued.

'That last one.' Gulped Julien and pointed with his hand as if the answer was something physical that he could show. 'Also, marrying her will mean I'll be a king for real. What if all I can do is just party and have fun?'

'First of all, I can't believe you're a mushy romantic. What, you're looking for your one, true love?' scoffed Skipper.

'Love, at least' muttered Julien.

'Second, you're playing right into your father's expectations, doubting yourself.' Skipper added, giving the Prince a stern look. He couldn't believe Julien was capable of all this inner turmoil. Ten minutes ago he could have sworn that the Prince could compute only one though or emotion at a time.

'You're right, you're right, PENGUIN.' Said Julien turning suddenly to his relaxed smile, as if wanting to put what he had just said seconds ago behind him. 'Ha, I can't believe I just said you are right.' Skipper rolled his eyes. 'Let's change this subject. It gives me a sad face. Tell me PENGUIN, have you always wanted to be a PENGUIN?' Skipper gave him an annoyed look.

'You mean a special ops officer? Even "in the army" would have been acceptable.'

'Hmm hmm. Whatever you say. So?' Skipper walked over to the trunk and finally sat down.

'No. I've always liked an adventurous life, but I wanted to travel. Anywhere. Especially to very remote locations.'

'Me too.' Said Julien enthusiastically. To Skipper it was incredible how he could make everything about himself. 'I wanted to see the island, but my father always kept a close eye on me. I would love to see the world. I would be so completely free!' Skipper was not aware that he was unconsciously nodding his head in agreement. 'Is Madagascar one of the places you'd have visited if you were a traveler?'

'Hmm, yes, in a way.' Julien grabbed Skipper's arm as an idea struck him.

'You can travel when you're retired from the army! Huh?' said Julien clearly as a joke, but presented as the greatest idea anyone ever had.

'Yes. I'll finally leave all this violence and destruction behind me. I'll come and pick you up on my way too. We can go on an adventure. You can choose the course.' They both laughed and then suddenly realized what they were doing. Sharing a moment together, having a joke of their own. Skipper didn't do this, bond with his 'mission' or share personal things about himself with practical strangers. But it felt easy with Julien in this moment, just as easy as with his teammates and that jolted him to the harsh reality of his life, not an imagined adventure. He stood up angrily, not facing Julien.

'I'll never go traveling! Not with you or anyone else!' he almost shouted in annoyance. 'I'll never leave the army. My best option is that I'll die in service.' Julien stood up behind him, with just as much passion.

'You speak like there is a price on your head or your family's.' Skipper turned to watch him with his eyes narrowed in anger. 'At least, you can change your situation if you want to. Don't expect me to pity you! You're not the one forced in a situation you can't escape. I made a deal for kingship against marriage. And now my tyrant of a father controls that too and he will continue to from the spirit world!' and with that he left Skipper there, heading back alone towards the mansion.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Evening had fallen quietly over the house. Private was having a good time deciding whether to have a staring contest with the wall or the potted plant with huge leaves from a little bit down the hall this time around. He was trying to ignore the feminine laughter coming from the closed door behind him. It wasn't making him uncomfortable or anything like that. Just that people were having fun and he was on duty. And those people more specifically were Princess Lea, the lady he was supposed to guard, and her ladies in waiting. He wondered briefly if people still used the term "ladies in waiting".

He hadn't noticed when the voices had gone down, but the next thing he knew the door opened and the Princess's head was poking out.

'Hey, Private, right? I asked one of my maids to come and get you, but they're all too shy to come and speak to you.' She said with a giggle. Private looked at her wide eyed. Someone was too shy to speak with him. That was a new one. 'Come in, come in!' she added, beckoning him inside the room with her hand.

Private passed over the threshold and entered the Princess's chamber. He didn't know what to expect, but this was amazing. He thought the rooms they had been given were huge, but this was beyond words. The Princess's maids were all huddled somewhere towards the bed, speaking amongst themselves in low voices, looking at him from time to time and giggling. Puzzled, Private looked at them than back at Julien's fiancée, who was just closing the door behind him.

'Is something the matter, Ma'am?' asked Private rather worried.

'Oh, no! Relax!' said the Princess with a reassuring smile, taking his hand and leading him to the middle of the room. 'Aren't you tired of staying out there, all alone? I hate to know that you're standing there all day and most of the night. It must be so boring! I've decided you must have some fun with me!'

'I really can't, Ma'am…uh Miss…Princess.' Private's fumbling made the Princess giggle some more.

'Sure you can! It's me you're trying to protect. I'm certain I'll be safer with you in here with me.' She said putting her hands around his shoulders. Private nodded his agreement seeing her very logical point. 'I want to choose a dress for dinner. Do you like dress up?!' she asked enthusiastically and not waiting for his answer she spun him around. Two of her ladies in waiting were opening two doors that led in her walk in closet. Private may not have been a dress up enthusiast, but his jaw did drop at the sheer size of it. It seemed that everything around here was in maximum proportions. He suddenly felt minuscule. Everyone entered the closet and Private was feeling like the fifth wheel, not knowing what to do.

The Princess delegated her maids to bring her dresses, from modest and chic to extravagant and diva like, while she was browsing at the same time. She turned to Private holding a dress high.

'What do you think? Too glamorous?'

'I…I…'

'Yeah, too glamorous.' She said throwing it back. 'How about this one?' she said, holding another, this time against Private. She scrunched up her nose. 'Maybe a hat, what do you think, Private?' Julien's fiancée asked him, while placing a headpiece hat on her head with long, green, lustrous feathers. Seeing his lost face she commented 'Too much, I agree.' And removed the extravagant headwear. A maid pulled her to another part of the closet and Private found himself stranded in the middle of women's clothing. He was fingering a leather jacket when he was startled by the Princess's voice close in his ear.

'You like that one, do you?'

'Um… yes I do.' He answered, unsure and unsettled by her smile.

'Uuuu great!' she almost squealed. She went to another shelf and picked out a tank top and to another and chose a pair of jeans and with each item Private's heart plummeted farther and farther to the floor.

'What do you want to do?'

'Girls!' Princess Lea called and immediately one girl carefully took Private's gun and placed it to one side, not paying any attention to his warnings, and another lifted his T-shirt and in the next instant yanked it over his head. Panicked, Private hunched over, covering his chest. A third girl was going for his pants.

'No! no! I'll do it myself if I have to! Do I have to?' he asked the Princess, somewhat imploringly.

'You'll look fabulous, I guarantee it. It's just a bit of fun.'

'Oh, bloody…' He shed his pants as well and the Princess handed him the clothes. All because he made the bad decision of looking at a jacket. No, because he made the bad decision of stepping into that room. Skipper would have never done that, get involved with the "mission" like this, so personally. He finished putting on the jacket and the Princess turned him towards a mirror. Huh, he actually did look good. Perhaps all those clothes were unisex or perhaps he was indeed a bit girly, like some people insisted. The Princess took his arm and led him out of the walk in closet.

'So, what do you think?'

'You were right, it does look good, your Highness.' He said blushing.

'You can keep the jacket. I don't think you want the shirt or the jeans.' She said laughing.

'I…I really can't.'

'I insist.' She stopped before a huge, ornate vanity mirror which had a long ottoman for a seat. She sat down and sat Private next to her. The Princess pulled over her cosmetics and Private couldn't help his exclamation.

'I hope you don't want to make me up!' the Princess burst into laughter at his sincere fear.

'No Private, don't worry. This is for me. Have to keep up appearances don't we?' she said, while applying some mascara.

'What do you mean, your Highness? You're a very charming, beautiful young woman jut as you are.'

'Oh, thank you Private. That's very sweet of you to say. But do you think I got chosen as Julien's fiancée, queen to be because of my many inner qualities?'

'I hope so…' said Private in his boundless optimism. Julien's fiancée set the make up instrument she was holding to one side and with her hands folded in her lap looked at Private seriously.

'I may have been trained since I was a girl in diplomacy, speaking several languages, court etiquette or other such things, but Julien's father chose me to be the Prince's fiancée only for my looks.' Private could see how her mood had suddenly changed. She raised from the ottoman and turned to her maids. 'Leave us!' For a second he though he meant that _he_ should leave. The girls rushed out one by one, careful to close the door behind them. Princess Lea walked to the bed and sat down, her head bowed. When she started talking again, Private joined her certain it was rather awkward and rude to be talking to a person in the other corner of the room.

'I like fashion.' She said motioning to the closet. 'It gives me something to do, while it keeps the illusion that I'm just a pretty body. But sometimes it gets rather sad and frustrating to feel so negligible. All I've done with my life thrown to the wind. People look me over or look down at me. They only see me as…'

'Cute! I know what you mean…'

'Then what can I do, Private? I'll don my attires and continue deceiving them.'

'No, don't give up! One day all you've worked for will pay off. People will see you for who you are. I did today.' He said and hugged her, forgetting the difference in rank.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:**

It was time to retire for the night, but Skipper was still loitering in front of Julien's door. He was a bit hung up about the way he had snapped earlier that day. Few things or people could squeeze an apology out of Skipper, but he felt like he owed one to the bratty Prince. His outburst had not been provoked by Julien, but by his own frustrations or fears. Skipper turned to the door and raised his hand to knock only for said door to swing open in front of him.

'Good, you're still here!' said Julien and pulled the commando inside. They stared at each other for a few awkward seconds then they both said:

'I wanted to apologize.'

'What? For what are you apologizing, Julien?'

'Ah, ah, ah, Prince Julien.' said the Prince wiggling a finger in front of the other man's face. Skipper just narrowed his eyes. 'Because, I snapped today and said some nasty things. Aaand I left you behind in the forest. I'm amazed to see you made it back.'

'It was a struggle.' Said Skipper sarcastically. 'Well, apology accepted, I guess.' He hadn't even though about Julien's reaction back in the forest, being too absorbed in his own.

'And you, PENGUIN?'

'Oh, coincidentally; the same. I came to apologize about what I said back in the forest and how I said it.' It was hard getting the words out.

'It's okay.' Said Julien, patting Skipper's shoulder. Skipper's eyes flicked to the hand and when they returned Julien was much closer to him than before. Then he felt lips and the man was kissing him. This was a joke or a strange custom they had when forgiving people. But he didn't push back nor pull away. Only after Julien pulled back and looked at him did his heart kick start.

'I … I really have to go… bed… shift…' he mumbled. Skipper fumbled a bit with the door and bolted out of there like a bat out of hell.

.


	5. Chapter 5

The king was dead, but no one was saying long live the king.

Everyone who had seen the state of health the late King Julien XIIth was in had expected his death, sooner or later. But that didn't stop it from throwing the rulership of the country in a standstill when it arrived. Madagascar was left without a king and Prince Julien could not inherit his father's throne until he fulfilled the deal he had made with his father and married.

The day it had happened, the entire household started making preparations for returning back to the capital, not only for the funeral, but staying for good. They left the next day, in two separate jets that came to pick them up. Madagascan roads are not so good if you want to travel fast and comfortably from one place to another and you have to transport something so valuable like the recently deceased king's body.

Julien, now the only living Madagascan royal of his name, was looking forlornly out one of the jet's windows. It was clear that one aspect or another of his father's passing was affecting him. What it wasn't clear, was which one. Not even to his mother and sister, who were sitting across from him. They both knew that in the last years the two men had started seeing eye to eye less and less. So dejected was he, in fact, that he couldn't be bothered to peel his little nephew Mort from around his ankles.

On the other side of the aisle, the four members of the PENGUIN team were sitting, each caught up in their own thoughts.

'Where did you get that jacket from anyway, Private?' asked Skipper, shaking himself off of the images in his own mind. He wanted to start a conversation with his team, the question was just a pretext.

'Oh, I think the princess thinks… well, never mind what the princess thinks…' his teammates had all turned curious eyes on him by now. 'We played dress up. One time. I got something out of it.' He finished quite pleased.

'Dress up? Alrighty then.' Concluded Skipper. 'Men I have something to tell you.' The tone in his voice indicated something important was about to be discussed. Something he would usually dub "classified". 'Yesterday evening I received communications from home base. First of all, they were very pissed off they had to find out about the death through the normal diplomatic channels and not directly from me. Secondly, they no longer intend to send reinforcements. The top dog made it sure I understood they made the deal with King Julien XIIth so now that he's kaput they will not give any military aid to anyone else here. They want us to return.'

'It sounds like you're about to suggest disregarding direct orders, sir.' Said Kowalski.

'Yes, I am.' Private's faint gasp was heard. '86 the fainting spell, Private. That poor schmuck will be over and done with in a few days if we leave him alone now.' Skipper said, inclining his head towards Julien. 'He had it easy so far. That house was isolated. And after this funeral all eyes will inevitably turn on him. Be it with good or bad intentions.'

He let them chew on that information for awhile. Acting against the will of some of the most powerful men in state was not something one asked everyday. And for what? Damn his honour. And damn his obsession with seeing every mission through. He had a niggling feeling in the back of his head, like a voice, that wanted to draw his attention to the fact that maybe he was doing it for something else as well.

Skipper scowled. A silver bolt of fear and nervousness shot through him as the thought of that kiss a couple of nights ago came to his mind unbidden. What a big coward he was! He had not had an opportunity to ask the Prince why he had done it and was not eager at all, apprehensive of what that discussion might uncover. He was firmly convinced that it was one of Julien's flukes or so he kept telling himself.

His musing were interrupted by Private, who had made up his mind. Skipper was glad for the change in subject, his mind was becoming a dangerous place, it seemed.

'I made up my mind. I'll stay with you, Skipper.' Declared Private, although he was still worrying his bottom lip nervously.

'Uuuh, color me surprised!' murmured Rico, sarcastically.

'What?!'

'Private is right. Besides, how are you going to help Julien all by yourself, Skipper?' said Kowalski 'You are going to need my awesome brain power.' After Kowalski's modest declaration they all turned to Rico left the only one not falling over himself to fawn over his commander and disregard orders at the same time.

'Oh, c'mon! How do I always end up the bad guy!'

'Bad Rico!'

'Are you gonna embark on the next plane and fly alone back to New York?' asked Kowalski.

'… no.' said Rico, then slumped in his chair.

**:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:**

The funeral had not been anything grandiose or meant to attract too much unnecessary attention. By a royal funeral standard. It was the first public appearance of the royal family since their return in Antananarivo and it had given them one important lesson. The people had split in two, one half still friendly and open to the monarchy, the other baying for their blood goaded along by the terrorist group. It had also convinced the Queen that dangerous things were at work and she decided to overlook protocol. She may not have liked the contract between her son and her husband, but a three months period of mourning was not practical at a time like this. Julien needed to be crowned as soon as possible.

Julien entered his room, exhausted. If it wasn't from partying and dance it was quite the foreign concept to him. It was the first time he could fully enjoy his room since he had returned. His room. His home, not that far away place in the south his father enjoyed so much. He was so glad of being here, with his things he loved. Julien made his way in the semidarkness to a side of the room where a desk and shelves were. He touched things with a smile remembering them as his by shape, size or texture alone. He stretched on the soft bed and let his body relax for a moment or two. A cool breeze was entering through the open doors of the balcony, ruffling the curtains and it brought the voices of the city at night, beyond the courtyard gates.

A feeling of righteous indignation (in his eyes, at least) flared up in his chest as he thought of those people today, casting doubt over his life. Commoners had no place to doubt him or his family. Julien's eyes shot open as the face of his father surfaced over the images in his mind. Maybe the king had not made his way to the ancestors and instead was going to haunt Julien for all his life. He sat up and made his way to the balcony, wanting to cool his head with the clear night breeze.

He was looking at the first star that had come up in the sky that evening, a wishing star (when they were little, he and his sister used to call it a "gimme, gimme star") when the door to his room opened behind him. There was only one person left who could enter his room without knocking.

'Honestly Julien. Why do you stay in this darkness! We are not animals!' his mother scolded. Her hand searched along the wall until it found the light switch. 'I came with good news!' Queen Malala said with a bright smile moving over to the balcony to stand next to her son. He gave her an inquiring look. 'I have managed to convince the Council to sidestep a few things here and there. You will be crowned as soon as possible. After the wedding, of course. Isn't that great news?'

'Great news, yes…' Like any mother, Queen Malala could sense when something was troubling her son and now he was silently raising red flags. She took his face in her hands and turned it to face her.

'Julien, I would never say this in any other circumstance, but look at your father's death like a blessing from the gods. You will make a far better king. Trust me. And you'll make that girl a good and caring husband.'

'At least as good and caring as he was, let's hope.' He retorted coldly. That last remark cut deep and she wondered why he still felt the need to remind them both of that when it was gone now.

'Oh, Julien you and your jokes.' She replied patting his cheek. She turned and exited his rooms. In the second she opened the door, Julien could glimpse through the open door the man still guarding his door, now chatting with the other, who had escorted his mother here.

**:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:**

The Affirmation was an old tradition, but right now Julian wished he did not live in a society that put so much stock on customs. Waiting to go in that hall was nerve wracking in itself. He was picking through the cracked door in the hall at the gathering crowd and wringing his hands.

'Relax, Ringtail! It can't be that bad.' Skipper said from behind him. Since their walk in the forest Skipper had taken to calling him Ringtail, after his alleged clan ancestor spirit, in retaliation for Julien's constant use of the name "penguin". With just a nod of acknowledgment they returned to their places, waiting in the antechamber. The Queen was talking in hushed tones with her daughter and Princess Leia on the other side of the room.

When the great doors opened wide, Julien knew he had to make his way in the hall for the ceremony. With a sigh, he squared his shoulders and stood up only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.

'Do I… Should I go in there with you?' asked Skipper. Julien would have loved some support, but tradition dictated he had to do this alone.

'No. This is official, you understand.' Skipper quirked an eyebrow.

'Sure.'

The Affirmation ceremony usually took place outside. Everyone in the kingdom could attend, since it was a ritualistic, symbolic pledge the king took in front of his people. They couldn't afford that anymore, so the ceremony was moved inside the palace confines and the people who wanted to attend had been rigorously checked for weapons. They were at the back of the hall, clearly separated from the Council presiding over the whole event. There was clear contrast between this attendance and the multitudes that would swarm in years past at other Affirmations.

With every step he took to the dais, Julien's heart thundered in his chest a bit stronger. A short, stout man was waiting for him on the platform. He looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't place him right now, nor could his brain summon enough power to divide its attention for this matter as well. He stopped in the center and turned to the room. He looked over the crowed, first at the Council, its members each and everyone older than him he was certain; then at the people looking back at him. He tried to put on an air of confidence or haughtiness, something that would look at home on him, but it didn't feel like it was working.

'Behold! Our Prince Julien, future King Julien the XIIIth of Madagascar!' the stout man was now standing next to him reading from a scroll. 'Are you ready to make the pledge, Your Majesty?' the man asked him and it took Julien a second to realize he had to answer back. This too was part of the ceremony. They were not having a friendly chat.

'Yes, I am.'

'Will the first member of the Council come forward as the representative of the people.' The man read from his scroll. Julien saw a man rising from his seat and coming up to the dais. He was neither too old nor too young, but had a severe air about him. Julien had rehearsed this part countless times. Anyone with any aspirations of being a king had to know the following lines by heart. They turned to each other.

'We as your people do not ask anything more than what you give freely.' Anyone with a bit of mind and some knowledge about governing could tell that those were words for ceremony. Peoples are rarely that benevolent with their leaders.

'I give you my wisdom.' Declared Julien the rehearsed phrase. The Council member repeated his first words and the Prince answered. 'I give you my courage.' Again the same pattern was repeated and Julien answered 'I give you my life in service.'

And with that the ceremony had ended. It had not been half bad. The Council member was making his way back to his place and the people in the hall were clapping and some cheering. Julien was ready to turn to leave when a voice somewhere at the middle of the large chamber shouted.

'King Julien! Your country's in tatters!' silence fell over the crowd and Julien's fear came flooding back to him. 'You're tacking over, but those criminals are tearing at the land and its people!' encouraging "Yeahs!' from the crowd and angered "Who let them in?" from the Council members could be heard.

'King Julien, do something where your father couldn't!' another voice shouted 'We'd rather die than live under their reign of terror! If those pledges were true, Julien!'

Other voices picked it up and soon almost the whole hall was chanting his name. He wanted to shout back at them "Those words were just for show! I don't have any courage or wisdom to give you! Don't put your hopes in me!"

'ENOUGH!' he roared at the crowd and bolted from the hall, pass a stunned Skipper.

**:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:**

Skipper was prepared for a riot or a public lynching, not that Julien would run from a cheering crowd. He had an inkling of what was wrong with the picture, but he wouldn't bet his right hand on it at the moment. He eyed the man still standing on the dais overlooking the evacuation of the crowd. His name was Maurice, the late king's advisor. He was the man surreptitiously standing behind the king's chair on that first night. And he was also the perfect candidate for their next operation. Skipper turned to his team.

'Men, I'll go look for Ringtail. Kowalski, you three go talk to Maurice as we've discussed.' With that he left them for his quarry.

The man barely had any experience with one taciturn member of the team, he had no idea about three of them together. They approached him, Kowalski in the lead.

'Hi! Maurice, was it?'

'Yeah… Can I help you?'

'Is there anywhere we could talk more privately?' at that, Maurice shot a worried look their way, but answered nonetheless.

'Um… the library, maybe.'

'This place has a library?' asked Kowalski, the interest for something else present in his voice.

'Yeah… Come with me.'

They walked along a few corridors until they came to a large, dark, wooden door. Maurice opened it and they entered a fairly sized room, with walls covered in books on three sides from ceiling to floor. An "Oooh!' escaped Kowalski's lips and he approached the closest shelf like hypnotized.

'Kowalski, we're here for a reason!' chastised Private.

'But I haven't done anything remotely intellectual for ages!'

'For ages though?' asked Rico. 'Come on!' he turned his friend back to the mission at hand.

'So what did you guys wanted a more private room for?' asked Maurice a bit suspicious.

'Maurice, right…' said Kowalski, clasping his hands, his mind back on the task. 'Why don't we sit down?' he gestured to one of the tables in the room. 'You were King Julien XII's advisor?'

'Umm… yeah. You guys seem to know quite a bit about me, but I can't remember even introducing myself to you. Him, I know.' He said gesturing to Rico. 'Since he was everywhere with the king. But you two… How do you…'

'Classified!' Kowalski cut him off.

'Really? Then why don't you tell me _what_ you know?' Kowalski was impressed that the man was so unruffled.

'I don't really think…' tried Private.

'Oh, come on! It's about me, anyway.'

'We know your full name. date and location of birth. We know you occupied the position of advisor in the last years, only after your father, the king's last advisor, died. We know…'

'Alright! Do you actually want something or just wanted to show off your information acquiring skills?' asked Maurice.

Now came the hardest part. The tree men eyed each other knowing that how they would word their proposition would make or break their operation.

'We have a plan. Quite a brilliant plan, if I can say so myself.' Said Kowalski 'But we are immobilized here protecting our charges almost 24/7. So we need an extra man to complete the plan. After careful consideration we came to the conclusion that you are that man.' Maurice looked from one to the other very carefully trying to see anything amiss.

'And what does this plan consist of?'

'You would have to go undercover into Clemson's camp as close as you can to him.'

'WHAT?! Are you insane? Are you trying to kill me?!'

None of them managed to give a good answer as the door opened and in stepped Skipper.

'Chill, Maurice!' he said, with a charming smile. 'No one is trying to kill you. Come, I'll explain.' He continued, while guiding Maurice towards the door with an arm around his shoulders.

'Skipper, how was it with Julien? Did you find him?' asked Private genuinely concerned. Maurice turned as well, the question sparking his interest.

'I'll tell you later.'

**:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:**

He left his men to deal with Maurice and went looking for Julien. He hoped the royal pain in the side was not having a strop or that he didn't leave the premise of the building. But he couldn't have in the short time that had elapsed. While Skipper walked down corridors he had the vague impression of being in a maze.

After several minutes of searching, a door, cracked open, drew his attention. He peered inside, into a room that looked to be some kind of living room or drawing room and there, seated with his back towards the door was Julien.

'There you are, Ringtail!' said Skipper advancing into the room. 'You should know by now not to run away like that. You have a tendency to do that, you know…' he trailed off as Julien turned his face to him with a slight frown. What really stunned him into silence though was the fact that he was crying.

'Go away!' he said through clenched teeth. Skipper shook himself from his staring.

'What? No!'

'You have no right to see me like this! Leave!' Skipper watched him skeptically, fighting his natural urge to lift his eyebrow.

'Do you really want to be alone or is that just the pride in you speaking?' he got no answer in return, but the commando leader could see Julien's jaw clench harder than necessary. 'Yeah, that's what I thought. Now dry your eyes. Tears are for civilians.'

'I am a civilian, you …'

'Oh right, right.' He sat on the settee next to Julien. 'Why so glum, chum?' Julien looked at him confused for a few seconds, while he tried to decipher the meaning of the question in his mind.

'I swear, you really do not have eyes in that flat head of yours!' the prince said, pushing one finger against Skipper's forehead.

'Hey!'

'Didn't you see what happened in there? Didn't you hear those people?'

'Yeah, but I thought you'd be angry that they'd interrupted your ceremony or something like that. Not…' Skipper could swear that there was disappointment in the look Julien gave him.

'I never thought about them, the people. What would they want. They were so far removed until now. But their expectations are natural, though I don't think I can fulfill any of them. They scare me. And it also scares me that each and every one of them will compare me not only with my father, but with all my ancestors.' Skipper put a reassuring hand on Julien's shoulder.

'Listen… um… being scared is good sometimes, it motivates you to fight. I can vouch for that. But you can't let it dominate you. On that stage, just now, you let your fear dominate you and you made a scene.'

'Thank you… I guess?' said Julien.

'You're welcome.' Skipper made to get up, but changed his mind in the middle and sat back down. 'Can I ask you something, while we're here?'

'Go ahead.' Said Julien, uncertain.

'Why did you kiss me back some nights ago?' Skipper had made up his mind to ask about the kiss seconds ago. Seeing Julien so open mad him think that maybe he would answer truthfully about his motivation behind the kiss as well.

'I was thanking you for your apology.'

'Oh!' that was disappointing. He knew it. They had a weird custom about kissing when apologizing.

'Oh? heh! And I was testing the waters.'

'Testing the waters?' Skipper searched Julien's face for any sign that he was talking about what he thought he was talking about.

'You responded quite well until you ran away.' Julien waited, maybe the commando wanted to say something, but the man was just watching him with big blue eyes. 'Gee, I think it's the flat head. It presses on your brain.' With that he leaned forward and kissed the man, even more boldly than the first time. 'Cute!'

'Even with a flat head?'

'More so.' This time Skipper initiated the kiss. It was different than any other that he had experienced with women before. It triggered a thrill of the new he enjoyed.

After a few minutes Skipper stood up, pulling Julien after him.

'I have some business to take care of with my men. Just stay somewhere I know you're safe. Here or your room.'

He turned to go, but Julien pulled him in for a final kiss.

**A.N.: I struggled with this chapter for almost a month and I still don't think I got the right tone for it. It was one of those I really wanted to get out of the way. It had information I needed to convey, but I really wanted it over so I could get to other more enjoyable chapters. **


End file.
